


Decadence

by awintersrose



Series: Kinktober [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Biting, Bloodplay, Characters/Ships/Kinks to be added as they appear, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Edging, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Face-Sitting, Femdom, Impact Play, Kinktober, M/M, Mental Manipulation via Sharingan, Mind Control, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Pegging, Power Exchange, Rope Bondage, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:34:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 14,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26771500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awintersrose/pseuds/awintersrose
Summary: A collection of erotic drabbles and oneshots.
Relationships: Hatake Sakumo/Orochimaru, Hidan/Kakuzu (Naruto), Jiraiya/Katou Dan, Jiraiya/Orochimaru/Tsunade (Naruto), Jiraiya/Tsunade (Naruto), Karura/Rasa (Naruto), Mitarashi Anko/Orochimaru, Namikaze Minato/Uzumaki Kushina, Orochimaru/Tsunade (Naruto), Senju Itama/Uchiha Izuna, Senju Tobirama/Uzumaki Mito, Senju Touka/Uzumaki Mito, Shimura Danzou/Uchiha Kagami, Terumi Mei/Tsunade, Uchiha Obito/Yakushi Kabuto, Uchiha Shisui/Yamato | Tenzou
Series: Kinktober [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1985686
Comments: 16
Kudos: 127





	1. JiraTsu - Yours for the Taking

**Author's Note:**

> Based on @lustyargonianmaid's prompt list on Tumblr.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinktober Prompt Day 1 - Pegging

“Just relax…” Tsunade giggles, running a hand down the tense muscles of her lover’s chest. “It’s not as if you’ve never done this before.”

Pectorals tense and jump beneath her red-lacquered fingernails, his ribs widening with each gasping breath. Her other hand moves by measured degrees, slick and slow, preparing him for what's to come. 

“No, but not _with you_ , like... this!” Jiraiya grumbles, then laughs, then groans as a cunning finger twists, flicking up against nerves that fire a volley of sparks throughout his groin and belly. “Now that’s just not fair, Hime.”

“Isn’t it, though?” Tsunade dips her head to rain kisses upon his belly, his hips, her lips curving into a gleeful grin. “You did say your body was mine for the taking, oh pervy one.”

“It is, it is… I just never imagined my Senju O-hime might end up so… masterful in the use of certain accessories.”

“There’s a lot about me you don’t know. You’re about to learn though, aren’t you, Raiya-kun?” His princess smirks, palming the generous length jutting up from between her legs, pearly pink and held in place by fine leather straps.

Coal-dark eyes follow the movement, pupils widening; Jiraiya licks his lips unconsciously, and Tsunade catches the action, tossing her hair back behind her shoulders.

“I ought to make you kiss me from root to tip, and thank me for the gift of my attentions. I don’t know if I’m sure you deserve it...” 

“Tsuna-hime, do forgive my--my impertinence, I would debase myself at your very feet, but you see,” he gasps as she continues her work, “I am in a somewhat compromised position.”

Her smile is bladed as she presses a third finger inside him and simultaneously strokes his now-weeping cock. She’s been teasing him for some time now, and he _has_ been quite the obedient boy. “You are indeed. I suppose I can make an exception; I am merciful sometimes, after all.”

Jiraiya bites his lip hard, the present flush across his chest and cheeks deepening to a much more vivid shade of scarlet. His words rush out in a flowery flood he can scarcely control. “I’m grateful for the gift of such generous mercy, my lady.”

“Let’s test that, shall we, my love?” Her fingers slip from his body, the absence suddenly rather jarring.

The feeling is shortlived, because in a matter of seconds, the smooth, wide head of her strap-on is pressing him open all over again, and filling him with ease. The sensation is one that isn’t wholly unfamiliar given his own explorations, but the magnitude of being filled by Tsunade’s cock is like being punched in the gut - quite literally and figuratively.

And the sight of her above him, glorious. 

Her own cheeks are flushed scarlet, her breath puffing hard across kiss-bitten lips, and his finger itch to touch her; the golden skin fraught with goosebumps, her nipples drawn tight in excitement. Just when it seems she can’t possibly press deeper, she sinks home inside him, and they moan in unison.

The smile she gives him is positively wicked. Jiraiya’s eyes narrow slightly as Tsunade pulls back with a gentle rock of her hips. She strokes his cock once before lifting her hand away and forming hand signs.

The buzzing flare of chakra - Tsunade’s chakra - runs through the toy and threatens to bring him in an instant, yet nothing is happening.

“Mmm… when I say so, Raiya-kun. Not a moment sooner.”

It promises to be a very long night. He’s going to love every minute of it.


	2. OroTsu - Night Watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinktober Day 1 Alternate Prompt - Mutual Masturbation

There’s never any time, not when they’re deployed. Attentions should be on the task at hand, but now that the fighting is coming to an end there is downtime, and in that downtime, idle hands grow… desperate.

Especially during the night watch.

Their unit sleeps, and the two remaining Sannin sit back to back, attending to duty. Things have been somber between them since Jiraiya remained in Amegakure, but both Orochimaru and Tsunade still find their comfort in each other, as much as they can anyway. War certainly steals the best of all things.

The crackling fire keeps them company, and for a while they have little use for words, though the late hour enables liberties of a kind. Tsunade twists slightly to link her arm with Orochimaru’s, to touch the upper part of his leg, any way to seek contact where she can find it.

Scant touches might as well be monumental ones, as they simply spark the desire for more. It’s been weeks since they have had a true moment alone, even more since they’ve so much as kissed, and the brush of her fingertips across his thigh is more maddening than he would like to admit.

“Tsuna-chan…” he whispers, nonplussed. “You shouldn’t. They might hear."

"Everyone is asleep, besides, I'm not doing anything untoward." Her voice is soft, close to his ear, and as sensitive as he is, the vibrations draw gooseflesh in their wake. 

“I would say that this is rather untoward given that we’re on duty.” He stares at the glowing embers as she puffs hot air against the length of his neck. “And you seem to forget that I can smell your want on you. You’re always such a naughty thing when it comes to these sorts of risks.”

Tsunade laughs softly, letting her hand drift along the inseam of his trousers. She leans close enough so that her lips brush against a fluttering pulse. “Well maybe I’m cold. And if I’m cold, then you must be freezing. Don’t you think we could just keep each other warm? There haven’t been any incidents for days, and all the barriers are up. If anything happens, we can manage. Alarm seals are set.”

"If you're so hungry for pleasure, you could just touch yourself, Hime."

"You know it’s not just about that. Besides I’ll only do it if you do too. And I know you want it just as badly." As if to prove her point, she runs her fingers even higher, relishing the swiftly indrawn breath and the instant pressure of his hand closed tight around her wrist, guiding it away from his body.

“I am capable of a little thing called discipline. And I’ll have you know, I’m not really one for self-pleasure. I don’t quite need it,” Orochimaru states, voice low. “Though I’d swear that that almost sounds like a challenge, coming from you.”

“Oh please, Oro. Like you could really sit there unruffled if I did decide to do exactly what you said? Do you have any idea how easy it would be? I wouldn’t even have to unzip my pants.” 

Tsunade rests her chin on his shoulder as she pulls her hand away from him, set upon a new target. Body armor prevents her from toying with her breasts, which usually adds to the rising excitement when she chooses such a course, but it’s unnecessary. The heat already gathering between her legs won’t take long to bloom into full rapture.

It seems a paltry thing to desire, but in lieu of any privacy or intimacy in so long, this playful, delicious little opportunity feels more exciting than she ever thought it might. Especially if she can get him to lose control. 

If she could hear those sounds he makes, even so softly as to not catch anyone’s attention but hers, nothing would compare. He has no idea just what that does to her… but she’d love for him to find out.

“ _Tsunade_ ,” he warns, and a new smile, especially wicked, finds its way across her lips.

“Don’t _Tsunade_ me. You know I’m right.” She presses the tips of her fingers right where she aches the most, exhaling hard, and Orochimaru goes rigid beside her. Every shift in scent and heat and movement is all too apparent to his keen senses and she knows it. “You could feel good too, here with me. Come on, Oro…”

His eyes close, far too focused on the spike of arousal in her scent, and the heat of her body pressed against his side. Despite all good sense, he can’t help but react. 

“You’re a menace, Hime.” Orochimaru’s growl is nearly inaudible, and the slow, slow shifting that eventually follows gives her reason to believe her words have borne fruit.

At that realization, she can’t keep from moving in to kiss him, from tasting the soft gasps of his breath. All she can do is breathe in deep, and give herself over to the too-quick ascent and plummeting freefall into bliss, even if it’s by her own hand. Their furtive, shared pleasures are found in near silence, accompanied by the sounds of the forest and the dying fire.

This is enough, it’s all enough, so long as they have each other.


	3. KakuHida - Insatiable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinktober Day 2 Prompt - Daddy Kink

“More, dammit!”

As Kakuzu’s hands traverse his body at a positively glacial pace, Hidan is close to clawing the leather beneath his fingers. Only the leather is expensive, and if there is one way to upset his lover, the destruction of his fine possessions is a one-way ticket to pain.

Not the nice kind, either.

From behind him a wide cock breaches suddenly yielding flesh and Hidan could shout in triumph for the smooth fullness piercing him so deeply. Except that he doesn’t.

Instead he grits his teeth and does everything he can to edge back onto that perfect intrusion. A grip like a steel cage wrapped tight around his hips keeps him from gaining any ground whatsoever. His enthusiasm is quenched; Kakuzu retreats entirely and he’s left with pure emptiness within and without. The air is cold and Kakuzu was so very warm that it’s enough to make him whine.

“Oh come onnn!" 

“Another word and I may leave you with nothing, brat. Be grateful for what you're given.” Kakuzu plays at the very rim of him, barely pressing a scant inch inside.

“What, would you rather I be sweet? You like me this way, admit it.”

“Keep dreaming.” A snap of dexterous hips has Hidan seeing stars for several seconds, repeated once, twice. 

It's enough to distract him, but not near enough to satisfy. Because once again, Kakuzu stops, holding him still, this time sinking deep and toying with the merest rocking motion. Driving Hidan insane is clearly the order of the night, and his master is doing an excellent job. 

Such teasing calls for extreme measures. 

Hidan gives a soft huff, clamping down with every muscle in his body until he can hear Kakuzu grunt aloud. 

“Fine. Have it your way.” His partner’s deep, gruff voice sounds millimetres from his ear, as long, dark hair trails across Hidan’s shoulder with Kakuzu’s movements.

He closes his eyes, relishing the sensation. 

Rough fingers feather down each knob of his spine, and at first Hidan isn’t quite sure what that has to do with his getting anything. The next thing he knows is he is tugged backward and literally spun in place until he is facing his dear master - spread across Kakuzu’s broad lap, filled to bursting, and utterly breathless.

Kakuzu lies sprawled beneath him, indolent and expectant, green eyes fixed upon Hidan as if weighing and measuring the possibilities. 

“Take what you want then, brat.” 

_Well isn't this a delightful twist._

“Hahaha - oh yes, Daddy.” he says, grinning with a poisonous sweetness.

Kakuzu’s eyes narrow, though Hidan can feel a distinct twitching where one particularly glorious cock is jammed so deeply inside him. “This again? I’m not your damn father.”

“That’s the whole point, old man.” Hidan shifts up onto his knees and grinds back down, half a moan caught in his throat. “You’re very much _not my father._ But I bet you really, really want to spank me, huh?”

“You deserve it.”

He really does. And boy will it be delicious when it happens.


	4. KagaDanz - Be Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinktober Day 3 Prompt - Mind Control
> 
> **A warning for darker themes - this chapter follows the prompt, it contains mental manipulation via sharingan. If what that entails is not your cup of tea, this chapter may not be for you ;) **

_ Someone ought to love me best. _

His thoughts run rampant as he lies awake, watching his best friend sleep in the predawn light. Kagami is everything to everyone - dependable, reliable, useful. He gives and he gives, trying to be the constant exception to the rule, to override the reputation his blood has stamped across his path. It manifests in loyalty, sunny kindness. It brings him the trust of his sensei. Respect, regard.

But never love. Not in the way that matters.

Such a luxury has never been his to share, not even with the one person among all who might be prevailed upon to regard him as precious. Danzou’s attentions have always been elsewhere, even if he finds comfort in Kagami’s bed. For every moment they’ve spent entwined beneath these sheets, Kagami has known that his best friend’s mind and heart have never truly been with him. His body was enough. Or so he would tell himself.

It’s what he thought yet again when Danzou knocked on his window in the still of the night, and again when he gave himself over to the temptation of hot skin and pleasure too tempting to deny. As Danzou sleeps the untroubled sleep of the seemingly righteous, his comely face soft in the morning light, Kagami’s blood boils. The bitterness stings his throat - burning low, like banked coals deep within. Like a failed katon jutsu fizzling out behind his tongue. Something in his chest gives way to pain.

_ I shouldn’t be a substitute. _

Sunlight slants more brightly through the window blinds as Kagami runs a hand over sun-kissed skin, edging closer to leave the imprint of soft lips against the cruel edge of Danzou’s jaw. His breathing stutters slightly, and he stirs, eyes still closed. An otherwise somber mouth curves into a wry smile as Kagami shifts to rest astride him.

“Kaga-- what are you doing?”

“Shh… we don’t have to train today.” Kagami leans in, pinning Danzou with his weight as he drops a rain of kisses upon his cheek, his neck. “Why not enjoy the morning for once?”

Beneath him, a part of his dear friend is already very much enjoying the morning, and without any clothing to separate them, it takes almost nothing to seize that small flicker of heat and stir it into conflagration. Kagami has always had great skill with fire, after all.

Amber eyes slit open to regard him with slowly ascending hunger, and Danzou’s hands tighten on his hips. It feels good, it always feels good when Danzou wants him like this -  _ sees him _ \- but he is certain that when the rush is at its height, and the crescendo plummets to its end, Kagami will not be the one he longs for.

Maybe once Danzou wasn’t who he wanted either, but it doesn’t matter, does it? They promised to be there for one another. Theirs is an unbreakable bond. Danzou knows it, he just needs further encouragement.

With utmost care, Kagami adores every inch of bare skin, reveling in the joyous reactions. Swiftly indrawn gasps, groans, gooseflesh from the purpling marks he can draw up with his mouth and tongue - it’s all a magnificent spectacle coming from a man who prides himself on self control.

Danzou’s hands are calloused from swordplay, and rough against his skin, and it feels incredible. The marks left behind always make him feel owned, and when Danzou rolls them over and presses inside him, it feels like the beginnings of victory, albeit incomplete. Chakra floods his eyes with bracing pain, and Kagami makes no attempt to stop it. His Sharingan sometimes manifests at the height of passion, Danzou’s seen it before.

He’ll never know what Kagami means to do, not until he’s caught. The trust between them is absolute, after all. And for a few moments, their joining feels like love.

“Dan-kun…” he moans, cupping Danzou’s cheeks and looking into those pretty eyes, expressive enough to belie the stern demeanor his best friend always shows the world.

Always beautiful and unappreciated. That won’t be the case any longer.

“What is it, Mi-chan?” Danzou’s voice is rough, his movements beginning to falter. Kagami’s voice has always had a certain effect on him.

“You promised you’d do anything for me once, remember?” he sighs, rocking up to meet him until his toes curl and his nails dig into muscular shoulders.

Danzou grits his teeth against his own impulses. “Yes.”

_ A promise is a promise. _

“Then be mine.” The tomoe pattern in his eyes shifts beneath the lazy flutter of dark lashes. “Love me like you love the village.”

No answer comes in the form of words, because the kiss that follows steals Kagami’s breath and tips him halfway into the freefall of pleasure. It feels unending, and once is not enough, not by any means. Kagami is half delirious by the time they are through, and the afterglow feels like a window into the Pure Lands; a reality of warm softness, edged in laughter. 

Certainly the affection in Danzou’s eyes was really there all along, he just helped it bloom.

There can’t be true harm in merely coaxing a spark to flame, can there?

  
  
  



	5. TsuMei - Heatwave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinktober Day 4 Prompt - Face Sitting

The Godaime’s quarters are overly warm and the balcony doors have been thrown open to let in the breeze. Over the course of the summit, there have been many comments about the heatwave plaguing Konoha during this visit, but summers in Kiri are downright steamy. Thus until now, Mei paid it no mind.

That is not to say she is concerned for the weather exactly. What Mei does care about is the fact that those doors are flung wide open with no care for privacy, and Senju Tsunade is about ten seconds away from bringing her to a screaming climax.

“My dear Mizukage, that’s a rather cute face you’re making. Whatever is the matter?” the Godaime Hokage grins as if sensing her hesitance. Her fingers slow, and circle, and tap, spreading hot wetness between her folds.

Mei bites down on her lower lip, hard enough to abrade the delicate skin as her hips jerk towards the path of Tsunade’s touch. Words become that much harder to grasp. 

It’s not as if she’s shy but, “I - um - going to… someone’s going to hear.”

“Well of course they are, it’s not like we’re ever actually _alone_ are we?” Tsunade chuckles, licking a heated stripe between her breasts, and nipping one pebbled peak.

She pulls Mei just a little bit closer, widening her knees at each side of her own waist, which gives the older woman full access to her sex, flushed pink and near dripping. Honey brown eyes take in the sight with supreme satisfaction. 

Mei swallows hard.

“Didn’t mean ANBU-- civvies…”

“You’re adorable. I guess you better keep quiet then, huh? Wouldn’t want to disgrace the office of the Godaime…” Two of those fingers slip deep inside her, hooking upward to savagely grind against the sweet spot she already knows too well. “Would you?”

“Ahhh… no!” Mei grits her teeth, though that expert touch wrings the intellectual sense from her mind. 

“You’re going to have to do better than that, aren’t you, Mei-chan?” Tsunade taunts, working her harder, silky wetness more than coating the palm of her hand. “Especially because I have a little task for you. To keep our alliance sealed, if you will.”

Mei leans forward, hands desperately finding purchase on Tsunade’s shoulders. “I’ll try…”

“Since you can’t keep quiet, I’m going to help you.” the Godaime Hokage smirks, withdrawing her fingers slowly, leaving Mei throbbing, aching, unfulfilled.

Her eyes widen in alarm, flashing with indignance, until Tsunade drags the same fingers across her bottom lip and kisses her hard. Mei can taste herself, she can taste Tsunade, and she can feel the desire within her begin to well up like a flood.

“Aren’t you afraid of what my mouth can do?” How Mei still has the gumption to tease, she will never know.

“Not one bit. There’s a reason you’re a Kage.”

Before another argument can be raised, Tsunade kisses her deeply, tongue flicking past her lips. Strong arms encircle Mei’s form with possessive intention, sending giddy excitement to run the length of her spine, clenching her belly along the way.

“There’s a good girl. Now lie down.”

Falling back against the pillows is a dizzying moment in time. She knows what is about to happen, has thought about it before, but Mei didn’t think it would occur so soon. Tsunade undresses before her, revealing a body that too many people have lusted after in both boasts and whispers; Mei can only marvel at how lovely the woman is in the flesh. 

Golden hair spills free around a figure that is soft around the edges but still sculpted by a lifetime in service as a shinobi. Her lush breasts are bared, tipped with rosy nipples drawn tight despite the warmth of the room. A trim waist leads down to the small dusting of a darker gold between her legs, and those legs, though not particularly long, are shapely beyond belief. 

There is a reason Senju Tsunade has been known as the most beautiful woman in the Five Great Nations for most of her life. Mei might have envied the epithet at times, but she can admit it to be pure truth. Now more than ever.

Tsunade places one knee at either side of Mei’s shoulders, leaving no secrets unrevealed. The vantage point spreads her lover wide within her sight - soft, swollen, and glistening with arousal. It’s clear their little games have been affecting her in turn. Mei catches Tsunade’s gaze before licking up against her once, and again, and the delighted sound Tsunade makes drives Mei towards pleasuring her with a single-minded sense of focus.

It’s a matter of seconds before she simply fastens both arms at her lover’s hips and feasts upon the taste of her. Tsunade barely has the chance to catch her balance against the headboard before she herself is crying out in sharply escalating bliss.

The solution has clearly backfired - maybe it was intended to - but now Mei simply doesn’t care.


	6. KaruRasa - Honey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinktober Day 5 - Thigh Riding

Working late again. It’s the start of the fiscal month and there are copious ledgers to be settled for the village. This is the case every month, and Karura is somewhat used to it. Her husband on the other hand, carries the stress in a taut line that begins right between his eyes and twines all the way down to the small of his back, lacing his whole frame with tension. 

Every cycle is the same, taking its metaphorical pound of flesh and manifesting in migraines and exhaustion. With his increasing absence at home, Karura begins to worry for his heart. That is, until she decides to take matters into her own hands.

The chamberlain greets her as she walks the long stretch of hallway leading to Rasa’s office. Karura can picture him there, slumped over the books and frowning, with an untouched cup of tea nearby from a pot that has long gone cold. Such posture never helps, it’s another thing she may have to address, but one thing at a time.

One does trap more flies with honey than with vinegar, after all.

The door swings open to his dispassionate voice. “I said I didn’t want to be disturbed.”

Karura secures the door behind herself and approaches his desk without pause. “Your staff doesn’t deny me entry, darling.”

Rasa looks up in an instant, and for a moment it's as if a sense of relief crosses his face, only to be followed by regret. “Karura… I’m sorry, there is simply much to be done before the week’s end and the departure of shipments from the merchants’ coalition--”

The stamp of exhaustion is all over him, just as expected, but he is too driven, too proud to put himself first. The lamplight burns a bit too dim, as usual. Rasa has always been frugal with resources, lamp oil included.

“You don’t have to apologize, love.” She smiles sunnily, setting a well-packed furoshiki on the desk. “I just think your work would be better served if you took a meal at home once in a while. The children miss you.”

Her hand finds his cheek and Karura bends to place a kiss opposite the caress. “I miss you.”

Grey eyes look up at her face with that same look of stoic regret, but Rasa still tilts his head toward the warmth of her touch. “I have work to do, Karura.”

_As usual, your actions contradict your words, my dear._

She leans into his personal space, placing a hand lightly at his throat and nudging a knee between his legs. “You can spare some time for me, I know you can, dear husband.”

The atmosphere shifts as he exhales, making room for her without pause. Karura smiles at the pulse of his cock as it slowly flutters awake against her thigh, and her heart races in answer to his shuddering breath. Just as he serves the village, he’s also hers - he’s always been hers - and though he may be a powerful man, he’s always needed the respite only she can give him.

“My sweet Ra-sa… so careworn and tired. Let me take care of you for a little while.” Her lips find the strong curve of his jaw, pressing forward so that he’s pinned against the back of the chair. “Don’t I always give you what you need?”

“You do, my lady,” he stammers through gritted teeth, head falling back as he arches up to grind against her.

The hand at his throat - never harsh - guides their movements in tandem and Karura kisses him like a woman starved. There is no lie in stating that she misses him. Their bed is cold these nights, and she hates sleeping alone. 

She can feel Rasa tremble beneath her tender grip, taste the breath shuddering out of his lungs. It doesn't take long at all to feel him straining against his trousers, as his hands find stability at the small of her back. 

“You’re going to let me love you, then you’ll come for me exactly when I say so, and not a moment sooner, aren’t you, darling dear?” she croons, rocking into him slowly as the dam finally breaks and he moans against her neck. 

Her husband, often the stern picture of Sunan values, is so beautiful behind closed doors and lost in submission. 

“I--I am… thank you, my lady…”

“Such good manners. Then you’re going to eat the nice dinner I’ve brought you, pack up your files, and come home to sleep a while. Isn't that so, my love?” Karura purrs, and his assent is not far behind.

Incentives do have a way of working out in the end.


	7. JiraDan - At Your Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinktober Day 6 Prompt - Edging

His lover is an evil angel, if such a thing is possible - and some of the outlandish tales from other lands insist that it is. Jiraiya has certainly read enough of them to declare it probable, and the more he considers it, the more he takes to this particular flight of fancy. With his icy hair and viridian eyes, Dan looks like an innocent creature hewn from all that is pure and bright, but if tonight’s surprises are any indication, what lies underneath is pure devilry, and no one would ever know it from his appearance, or from his stellar reputation. 

It’s not that Jiraiya is complaining, not at all; the predicament just calls for creativity… or another answering predicament that cuts in the opposite direction.

Which is why they now find themselves alone in his flat, with one fallen angel bound in tasteful blue jute rope, knee to ankle, each wrist to the opposite elbow, secure on his bed. By his own choice, he remains completely at Jiraiya’s mercy as the sage drowns Dan in sensation that cannot be controlled nor returned.

“You know what you did, don’t you, sweet bird?”

“Well… I think maybe I do…” Dan shudders against Jiraiya as the toad sage’s hands drift across the changing textures of his abdomen.

Pure amusement twists his mouth. “Tsk tsk… teasing me all throughout that dinner. Did you really think there would be no consequences?”

Dan’s silvery lashes fall slowly as he wets his lips. “You enjoyed it though, didn’t you?”

A large hand spreads leisurely around the base of Dan’s cock, rubbing maddening patterns up the hollows of each hip, and across the curve of his pelvis. Another hand teases the belled clamps adorning his nipples. 

“I’m not so sure that’s the point right now, sweetie.”

Sea green eyes plead almost piteously as skilled fingers take the chance to run the full length of him, taking the momentary distraction as an opportunity to pick up a smaller hank of thin rope. Jiraiya’s touch remains persistent, running along that silken skin as he closes in behind Dan, enveloping him in warmth. His motions never go still, stroking slow and full, his thumb circling the head of his lover’s cock, now rosy red and flushing deeper, almost the same shade as the crimson staining Dan’s cheeks. His hand comes away sticky; wetter still as he strokes again.

“Already, sweetheart? Don’t worry, I’m going to help, promise.” Jiraiya nibbles the nape of his neck, its graceful curve already bared by a hasty knot.

He releases the straining erection in his hand entirely, bringing the rope into Dan’s sight.

“S-so cruel, Rai…” Dan’s breath hisses through his teeth.

“Oh come on now, how many times have you three gotten your jollies in exactly. The same. Way?” Jiraiya punctuates each pause with a kiss across tense shoulders, brushing crystalline wisps of hair out of the way. 

“Like I said, this is revenge. You did turn yourself over to me this weekend, didn’t you, bird? And how better to make you sing?”

The answering moan is delectable, something he wants echoing against the walls and ceiling again and again. He’ll have it too.

A few moments of deft concentration have Dan’s arousal tied in cunning bonds, the silk rope laced around his cock and his testes in such a way as to keep him from coming; long enough for Jiraiya to make the most of their time together.

“Can’t you feel what you’ve done to me?” The sage presses his own aching arousal against the curve of Dan’s ass, sighing. “I think there’s something to be given in recompense, my lovely.”

“What would that be… Master?” Dan asks in the most satisfying tone, giving himself over entirely with his change of address. His voice trembles as Jiraiya throbs against him, exhaling against his ear.

“Well, everything. Eventually. And you’ll be begging me, I think.” Jiraiya taps the base of the toy inside his cheeky lover - one of the very catalysts that lead to such teasing tonight.

He draws the little jeweled plug out partway, toying with Dan even more at the moment it flares the widest, then he slips it back home again. With each repetition that follows, the visible tension in Dan’s body notches higher and higher. Sweat beads at his temples and gathers along his spine. 

A deep whine finds its way out from between Dan’s otherwise well-disciplined lips, and Jiraiya takes advantage of that desperation, plying at his rising need, then backing off each time it surges too high. After several fruitful rounds of chipping away at his lover’s will, Jiraiya draws the toy away instead of reinserting it. He can feel the slow panic begin to rise within his lover, and without pause, he slicks himself with lubricant using a free hand, and drives inside Dan with a slow, firm rock of his hips.

The echoing cries he wanted at the outset are gifted to him, and multiplied with a second shift of his thighs.

_Gods, this could backfire at any moment._

Dan is so hot, and tight, and writhing against him despite the bonds - maybe because of them - Jiraiya has no idea. The sage is too wrapped up in making sure that he can control himself long enough to make good on his promises because Dan, his wicked, wicked-yet-heavenly creature feels too much like paradise.

“Please…” Dan begs beautifully, and Jiraiya’s stomach clenches hard with heat.

_Dammit._

This was supposed to be a predicament for Dan - but it seems supernatural desirability must be holding Jiraiya captive yet again. Who is he to argue?


	8. OroSakumo - Tamed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinktober Day 7 Prompt - Spanking

“My, what big teeth you have…” Orochimaru teases, shivering as Sakumo nips his collarbone and slips a questing hand beneath the hem of disheveled silk.

“Well I am your wolf, darling, am I not?” Sakumo grins, tugging at the obi beneath his free hand.

"Wolf? No. You're my puppy. And surely a puppy needs a collar, doesn't he?" Pale, slender fingers dally along the wild pulse at Sakumo's neck, and a razor-sharp smile echoes the puckish grin of his partner. 

"Do I, my Lord? Then I suppose you ought to bring me to heel then, shouldn't you?"

He could hide how much he enjoys the use of the title, or the thought of what lies in wait once the plush leather collar buckles around his throat, but there is no use trying to hide from Orochimaru. The serpent's senses are sharper than his own and in different ways. Delightful, preternatural ways that seem more like telepathy than anything else sometimes, even if some of that extreme veers toward mere coincidence.

A darkly aristocratic brow lifts, finely wrought and fascinated. "Is that so, puppy? Feeling cheeky tonight, then? So I suppose you consent to the consequences?"

"Always, lovely Lord of mine."

"Ugh, puppy. Flattery will get you everywhere. Come along." Orochimaru tugs his shaggy ponytail, trailing glossy nails to dally just across his shoulder blades before scoring five red lines in a diagonal path. 

The sensation is instantly dizzying, delicious; pain and pleasure in one pass. 

Orochimaru makes a soft considering sound, his golden eyes flitting over sun-kissed skin and rising welts. Sakumo has to clench his jaw against the rising shudder.

His serpentine lover releases him and Sakumo starts toward the closet, where their chest of goods both sacred and profane are hidden, but Orochimaru titters.

"Not there, silly boy. Silly _puppy_. Right here." He points to a length of porcelain-pale thigh exposed where his own yukata was rendered askew earlier by hungry, hasty hands. "You just consented, or did you forget?"

With a curious tilt of the head, Orochimaru studies him carefully, blinking slow. Eyes like liquid gold fix him with a gimlet stare and the sensation that follows is akin to having a live wire spark somewhere behind his navel, followed by a thousand other small shocks thereafter.

Sakumo pauses, the promised leather collar halfway forgotten. "Your lap, my Lord?"

"I believe you know why I would put you there, or must I instruct you further?" Orochimaru sighs and rubs two fingers together, fidgeting. 

The same fingers then point downward with a nonchalant grace, and he begins to clear his throat when Sakumo scrambles forth, trying to hold back the traitorous grin that lingers just at the edge of his lips. “Nn-no, my Lord, no instruction is needed at all, I’m quite pleased to submit myself.”

“Then do so.”

In seconds, Sakumo is stripped, and bent ceremoniously over Orochimaru’s lap. His biggest regret is being unable to see his beautiful lover in action, imperious and so in control, but once that devil scrapes his nails down Sakumo’s spine and winds a firm hand in his hair, complaints are far from his mind. 

Orochimaru leans down close to his ear, flicking the wet heat of his tongue along the shell. “Don’t count, puppy - don’t be quiet either.”

The first strike falls hot and burning upon his left buttock, its tingling warmth radiating outward. The same strength is repeated on the other side, and both steal a gasp from Sakumo’s lips… but the warmup has barely begun. By the time Orochimaru has found his rhythm, Sakumo’s spine is bowed and his fingers scramble for purchase on the bedcovers.

So many peers and foes alike make assumptions of Orochimaru’s physical strength based on his slight and even delicate appearance, but there is nothing soft or delicate about the way he strikes Sakumo now. His hand falls true, with fiery, smarting force and near bruising contact. 

The groans and cries that wind their way through the air mingle with his Lord’s sly laughter. Orochimaru pauses to stroke a hand across a curved cheek now flushed a sweet shade of rosy pink, pleasantly warm against his fingers. “Such a good boy you are… perhaps you’ll even be absolved soon.”

Sakumo’s spanking continues, but then, so do the caresses, alternated with gentler slaps that cool down the heights of excitement as the session begins to slow. Once the tension in Sakumo’s spine has loosened entirely, Orochimaru simply touches him, giving away more than a bit of his own want, exploring the curve of his partner’s naked, blushing ass where it meets a muscular thigh. 

“And who knows. After my puppy finds himself acquitted, perhaps a hungry wolf just might feast upon that which he desires most.”

A certain stirring against the serpent’s skin draws immediate laughter from deep in his chest, a rich sound, but sensuous, like the rasp of skin over suede. Sakumo can’t help the reaction his lover’s words draw from his body, but inflicting joy is even better. He turns his head to catch a scant view of the precious, wicked grin crossing his lover’s exquisite countenance, exposing the dainty points of fangs. 

Pretty poison, utterly addictive - and all his.

“If my lovely Lord wills it so, who am I to disobey?”


	9. TobiramaMito - Stormbringer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinktober Day 8 Prompt - Creampie

She burns behind his eyes, like living flame in shades of red and blue. There are times when gold joins the palette, with its winding, adamantine patterns, binding them together, but right now Tobirama can no longer resist impulse, sinking teeth into the column of her throat.

Mito purrs, as if the vulpine aspects of her presence have manifested into something more tangible, and a shapely leg curls up around his hip, urging him to move. And he certainly wants to - she’s hot and slick against him, as wet as if he’d been toying with her for hours, and he contemplates just how he might spin the thought into reality when she arches into him with one hand bound for his nethers.

“Don’t keep me waiting, Tobi.”

He licks a searing line up the hollow of her throat, catching her mouth and holding her captive with a kiss. Her lips part against his, tongue dipping past to tease and taste. Red hair like spun garnets tangles in his fingers as he pulls back to catch his breath.

“I’d hardly dream of such a thing,” he murmurs, rigid tension winding through his frame as Mito finds what she’s looking for, palming him roughly.

She makes a soft sound of satisfaction. “Dreaming or not, you’ve been away too long. And I’ve been _needing you._ ” 

Her lily-white hand slides the head of his cock up and down the sopping wetness of her sex, using his erection quite like an instrument of pleasure. 

_Her favorite,_ he thinks wryly. 

Tobirama grits his teeth against the rising onslaught of sensation, until Mito tugs his weight down upon her, so that a single shifting movement will wed their bodies as one.

“I won’t ask you again.” 

“I don’t recall you ever asking.” He’s so hard and she’s so very wet that a rocking grind presses him deep inside her with little effort at all.

It still steals the very breath from his lungs.

His irreverent Uzushio witch has always been a stormbringer, and coupling with her is a bit like being overtaken by the power of a typhoon.

Their dance is like the push and pull of the tide; he fills her with unrelenting urgency and she embraces him, moves with him, until pure pleasure drives her towards seeking its heights with wild abandon. Tobirama won’t see her dissatisfied. He places the heel of his hand over her pubic bone and circles her clit with his thumb as he drives inside her with a rhythm that begins to falter as his own self control wavers. 

She is right, he has been too long away from her.

Mito cries out and her sharp nails dig into his back, dragging hot lines down his shoulder blades as she seizes beneath him, clenching tight around his cock again and again. Tobirama’s self control shatters at the sight of her lost in the rush. He lifts her hips against him with a bruising grip and floods her with the heat of his seed as climax crashes over him.

She tugs him into torrid, desperate kisses, and he eventually has to draw away, though his heart nearly skips a beat at the sight of her eyes gone to vulpine slits after all. A curious observation to chart, and not one that happens often.

“I missed you,” she says simply, almost petulant and blinking slow.

“Then we’ll make the most of the time we have.” He touches her cheek before withdrawing from the clutch of her body so that they might assume a more comfortable position. Good sense beckons him towards ensuring that they rest before losing themselves in one another all over again. 

Because they will. He knows it as surely as the sky is blue.

As he moves he can’t help but stop and stare. Mito may very well be like a goddess of old, sent to tempt or to teach - but she is certainly debauched at the moment, and the pearly seed that drips down her inner thighs seems to lend him far too much satisfaction. 

Perhaps she is not the only one with an animal side.


	10. TenzoShi - Teamwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinktober Day 9 Prompt - Gaping/Exhibitionism

There is little privacy to be found in the ANBU barracks most days, though with a high volume of missions deployed and minimal base units held in reserve, the facility is still far quieter than usual. With idle time comes a push to train, but overexertion is a concern when an assignment could arrive requiring top form. Thus enrichment opportunities are encouraged. Teamwork. 

Technically one could say that is exactly what they are doing. The method doesn’t usually seem to matter. Even less so when Shisui is three fingers deep inside him, with a hand tangled firmly in his chestnut hair.

“So tight, Ten-kun… let me in.” he croons, quirking his fingers.

“We’ll get caught--” Tenzou gasps, insides alight with sparkling pleasure. 

“You like it, I can feel it.” Shisui curls his fingers in and out, teasing the fourth, his pinky, right along the rim, wiggling it in slowly alongside the other three. “Just look at that. Any more and you’ll be taking my whole hand, love.”

Tenzou moans as those angled fingers send sparks shooting straight through his cock; his nails scrape the homespun wool beneath them as he leaks precome on the blanket now bunching at his hands and knees. The lascivious chuckle in his ear is like an injection of pure aphrodisiac, like a drug they’d use on a target, but there isn’t anything here but his lover’s presence, set upon ravaging him in every way possible. 

With his express permission, of course.

“Ten-zou, if you make too much noise your captain is going to come check on us. You wouldn’t want that would you?” Shisui lilts, working his hand slowly and biting his own lip when Tenzou clamps down on his fingers, sagging against the pillows with a whimper

“Oh? Is that so? I didn’t think it to actually be the case, but I guess you _would_ , huh?” Shisui laughs, low and throaty. 

There is little resistance to Shisui’s questing fingers now, and Tenzou teeters poised at the edge of utter oblivion. He knows that if he could see his lover now, he’d be gazing into blood-red Sharingan, one blink from entrapment in masterful genjutsu, though he knows Shisui really just adores the memorization of salacious sights and sounds.

His touch spreads Tenzou wider, fingers parting as he drags them halfway out. Pulse beating in his ears, Tenzou loses awareness of everything but the slow climb of pleasure, now abruptly paused at the whim of his partner’s delight. He grunts, pressing back, attempting to sink back into the feeling again. 

“So lewd, love. So hungry. I take it you want more now? Even if I told you I could hear Kakashi-senpai in the next room only a few minutes ago?” Shisui presses the heat of his own arousal against Tenzou’s inner thigh.

“Let him come -- I-I don’t care.” he stammers, breath catching high in his chest.

“That’s what I thought you’d say, Ten-kun.” Shisui whispers, drawing away.

At once, he’s left empty, bereft. Shisui’s damnable laughter resounds nearby, with the wet sound of something slick being spread. 

“I wish you could see yourself, love. All open and needy. Don’t worry though, I won’t leave you this way long.”

“How generous of you,” Tenzou says dryly, clenching his teeth.

But there isn’t time for posturing, because Shisui makes good on his promise, aligning himself with Tenzou’s well prepared hole and driving home without preamble. If anything might have given them away to others in the vicinity, it would have been that very moment; Tenzou barely has the presence of mind to fit a bit of blanket between his teeth and muffle the cry that threatens to break free.

Shisui winds a hand in the locks of Tenzou’s hair, thrusting up into him with reckless abandon, eager to bring him to the sharpest edge of broken control. Each nudge higher threatens to tip him over the precipice until suddenly footsteps echo in the corner of the bunk area.

“Well don’t stop on my account,” an all too familiar voice says, its tone amused.

Far too gone and drunk on the high, Tenzou shocks even himself by letting what happens, happen. And the newfound surprise that awaits thereafter is one that only adds to their _teamwork_ opportunities.


	11. JiraOroTsu - Balancing Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinktober Day 10 Prompt - Overstimulation / Cockwarming

He’s always had an excellent sense of balance. Agility fit to walk a tightrope or the very edge of a blade and step free unscathed. Yet the ledge Orochimaru teeters upon now is hardly so simple - impossible to traverse.

It’s not a ledge so much as a point; wide, inexorable and so utterly still inside him that he would claw the skin off his partner’s forearms where they lay at his hips if not for the way his own wrists are crossed and bound at the small of his back. There is also the inconvenient fact that Tsunade is poised in front of him, with a chakra laced fingertip running the length of his own cock, where she has been for, well, the last twenty minutes, working his flesh into an aching manifestation of pure need.

Jiraiya’s breath is steamy-hot and labored against the nape of his neck, giving testament to the effect his lovers’ actions have rendered upon his person. His stamina usually borders on levels of ungodly, but from the very moment Tsunade all but dropped Orochimaru straight onto his cock with an order not to come, his control has threatened to fall apart at the very seams.

Perhaps it’s because even with an order to be still, the serpent in his lap is enticing beyond compare - and wiggling imperceptibly, clenching around him as Orochimaru tries to hold himself upright, biting off a mewling sound, the keen points of fangs catching on tender lips.

“Ah-ah, don’t you dare move,” Tsunade croons, taunting them as she sidles just a bit closer. “I know you can endure my little test, now can’t you, boys? You’ve been doing so well.”

The cool green glow of her fingertips drifts along the head of Orochimaru’s cock, tracing the underside, and she reaches up to pinch an already-peaked nipple. He hisses a curse and she laughs.

“Kiss his shoulders, Rai.”

Orochimaru looks up at her with hazy golden eyes, his slit pupils blown to dark ellipses, and he shudders as Jiraiya’s mouth presses across his shoulders, his neck. At once, the heat in the room spikes by five more degrees, and his pulse races even faster. “Tsuna-chan…”

“Wrong answer, love. Use the proper form of address and I might listen.”

“Hime-sama, mistress… mercy, please…” he gasps, and she snorts, placing her other hand just across his collarbone.

“You know, people beg for mercy when they want their lives ended just as often as they do when they want grace, lovely boy. Do you want something sweet, or do you really want something cruel?” 

She pumps his erection with that glowing hand, just as the other tightens, with one finger set against each of his pulsepoints.

Honeyed eyes devour the domino effect of the torment inflicted as Orochimaru’s feet try to find purchase anywhere since he has no leverage, spread as he is across Jiraiya’s lap, pierced through and through. Jiraiya’s jaw pulses as he grits his teeth against the minute movements snugged so tight around his aching member, dulling the sound of his groan against the back of Orochimaru’s shoulder.

If only that didn’t stir the serpent to another beautiful reaction. Tsunade wets her bottom lip, a new surge of heat pooling between her legs. She’s been soaked for quite a while, and she knows he can smell it on her.

“Sweetie, I’m going to let Raiya let fuck you now. Hard. And if you can keep from coming, you’ll get a special treat.”

Blood rushes in Orochimaru’s ears as her words process, then gravity itself spins out, rapidly throwing off his balance, just as the generous length spreading him wide drags against oversensitized flesh in reverse, leaving him empty. Big, rough hands grab him by his bound wrists and yank him back onto the bed behind the stool Jiraiya was perched on.

The sage is suddenly on top of him, a shit-eating grin painted across his too-handsome face. “Hi, precious. Knees up for me.”

Orochimaru, about to spew indignance in every way possible, sees Tsunade take her place right at his head and he swallows hard, obeying instead. 

“I thought you were going to be the death of me like that, wiggling so much.” Jiraiya positions himself against his lover’s well-stretched hole and inches slowly home, teeth digging into his own lip as Orochimaru moans, hips jerking. “Yeah, quite like that.”

“You’re an ass.” the serpent hisses, unable to keep a rein over his words.

“I believe it’s your ass I’ve taken possession of, darling,” Jiraiya grins, leaning in to kiss him as he draws his hips back and shoves home, making Orochimaru see stars.

The challenge Tsunade put forth is nearly impossible, because after countless minutes, positions, and profanities crooned in his ears, that stamina Jiraiya is so known for is clearly kicking into overdrive. They eventually end up right back as they started, and judging by the cat-that-got-the-cream look on their Hime’s face as her fingers dip steadily between her own legs, she’s got no intention of interceding.

“Hime, please…” Orochimaru begins to beg, losing coherence as his head thrashes side to side on the bed. “I need, I can’t--”

“What is it, lover? Yes, you can.” She takes stock of his frenetic gaze, the deep flush staining his pale skin rosy, the sweat dripping down his neck and chest already dotted with the imprints of their lips and teeth. They have been at this for a while - perhaps mercy is called for after all. “Alright. This time, but only because you’ve been so good. Hold on Rai.”

In a single movement befitting any well-trained kunoichi, Tsunade sinks onto Orochimaru’s erect, weeping cock, straddling his waist and holding completely still, one hand firm on his chest as he fights not to come then and there. She cranes back to look at Jiraiya. “Now, hard.”

“As my lady wishes,” he says, voice growing rough.

Jiraiya’s thrusts are hard enough to rock their entire bed, such that Tsunade doesn’t need to do anything to stimulate either of them further, leaning down to kiss her dark haired lover with a hand at his throat in exactly the way he likes. Sensation funnels low and spirals high into a billowing explosion that overtakes all three in rollicking torrents of searing heat until all three are left half delirious and gasping.

Tsunade laughs against Orochimaru’s neck. “See, I told you that you wouldn’t lose your balance.”


	12. OroAnko - Afterglow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinktober Day 11 Prompt - Aftercare

He opens his eyes to the dim glow of lowered lights and the feeling of pure lassitude in all four limbs, edged with the pleasant soreness of muscles well-stretched, well-used. Extending arms and legs reminds him of potential bruising to come, trophies of a satisfying session. The air beneath the plush blanket encasing him is toasty-warm and leaving it is a preposterous idea, but above all else, the silence in his mind is what is most notable. Intrusive thoughts cleared, the static and noise always present have been brought down to naught but the soft glow of familiar chakra nearby.

“Hey, sensei - I’ve got your tea.” Anko’s voice prompts him to turn over so that he can see her.

“I thought I told you not to call me that anymore,” Orochimaru tries to sound disapproving, but the edges of his lips curl, betraying his amusement.

Once again, it’s always down to routine between the two of them.

“Eh, you know you’re still kinda teaching me things, and the scene is over. Besides, it’s always weird to call you by name. Can't really help it now, can I?” Anko sticks her tongue out as she sits close with a mug of something fragrant, and a plate of dango skewers.

“You could, but as usual you prefer to be vexatious,” he teases, “What flavor today?” 

“Kinako. And that sencha from Iron Country.”

Orochimaru sits up, gingerly withdrawing an arm from his too-pleasant cocoon of warmth to accept the mug of hot, blessed tea. Reddened, cordlike marks snake around his wrist and forearm, and he makes a sound of approval as he examines them, happy with the reminder.

“That was a very fun tie, Anko-chan,” he hums, sipping delicately. The tea is shy of still boiling hot, exactly as he likes it.

“Yes well, you’re a very, very fun rope bunny to have on call,” she moves in behind him to massage perpetually tense shoulders. “No one else is quite as bendy or enjoys extreme kinbaku quite like my snake sensei.”

Lifting a skewer of dango from the plate, he relaxes into her attentions and nibbles at the sweet, enjoying the mild flavor and the praise. “It’s quite the win-win situation, then, isn’t it my dear? Edification, satisfaction, and the acquisition of more skills that you can take elsewhere.”

“I’d almost say you sounded jealous if I didn’t know for a fact that you have company coming later.” She smirks, placing a kiss at his bare shoulder.

“And they’ll get to spy an array of your marks left behind on my skin, sadistic girl. What did you use earlier, by the way? A cane or a crop?”

Anko laughs, tracing the edge of one vivid stripe. “Both, of course, but I was more interested in seeing the suspension. You do look so pretty when you fly - in both ways, of course.”

In her mind’s eye, she can still see the coppery silk ropes woven over his form in exquisite detail, suspending him in an inversion, limbs bound at a seemingly impossible angle despite the bliss across his face. The ropes now lie in artless piles on the tatami, and no matter who she uses them on, he’s her favorite.

“I do, don’t I?” he agrees with a soft chuckle, and she swats his shoulder none-too-gently. “Now, now, the scene is over, dear. You should really be nicer to your favorite rope bunny, was it?”

“Oh really, who’s being vexatious now?” Anko rolls her eyes despite a grin.

“Feel free to hold it against me for next time, hmm?” Orochimaru turns to look back at her, offering her the plate of dango.

Accepting the offer, she knows that she certainly will - because when they meet on this level they both always get what they need.


	13. ItamaIzuna - Endless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinktober Day 12 Prompt - Dubcon
> 
> Warning for the obvious - hazy dubcon involving alcohol or Sharingan, you decide.

It all moves so fast. So fast he isn’t sure whether the spinning of the room is his own equilibrium shot to hell or the effect of glowing crimson eyes holding his gaze captive. If that was Itama’s first mistake, it was made far earlier than this very moment.

The very first rule of tangling with an Uchiha, broken - no, pulverized - to dust and blown away at a single glance. You’re never supposed to look them in the eye. Except with this one it’s impossible.

Those are battlefield rules anyway. They certainly can’t count right now, can they?

Izuna has always been too magnetic, at least to Itama. His older brothers may complain about their own struggles with managing the young man’s particularly caustic nature and tendency to lash out or leap into the fray without looking, but perhaps that’s what draws Itama closer, makes him curious. In the Uchiha, he’s only ever encountered charm to round out the impulse and short temper that seem to be wrapped into one overly attractive package. 

Even so, Itama probably shouldn’t have been drinking with Izuna, shouldn’t have followed Izuna back home, shouldn’t have kissed him…

So many shouldn’t haves, and they all feel so good that he doesn’t want to stop. It’s vaguely alarming that every reason to pull away from those plush, ruby lips and ivory skin is dashed from his mind as quickly as it comes. But even the alarm bells die down in the face of such sweet kisses.

Aniki will have kittens when he finds out. He can already picture the disapproval in another particular pair of scarlet eyes.

“Ita-kun, don’t stop…” a cajoling voice soothes in his ear, and he’s immediately pulled back into the now, a reality that feels like a dream. Maybe it is. 

He doesn’t quite care, especially when a clever hand unties his hakama and draws him towards the soft futon already made up on the clean tatami.

The next thing he knows is he’s flat on his back, face curtained by loose black hair as Izuna kisses him. There’s no time for second thoughts, not with the plum wine taste of the Uchiha’s tongue in his mouth, and the scent of jasmine thick in the air. Gasping for breath just leaves him looking into the sanguine glow of Sharingan that echo a mirrored hunger back at him with equal intensity.

_Which one of us is influencing the other more, I wonder?_

Those deadly eyes are memorizing him, he knows that much, but he doesn’t know what else they are doing. Desire surges through him with the power to combust, and the Uchiha are practically made of fire. Another touch, and he’s bound to go up in flames.

Only there are a great many touches, so many as to make him delirious; hot kisses, ravenous hands. Impossible heat engulfs him in sheer bliss and all sensation escalates, twisting through his form in a mad spiral that seems infinite.

The last vestiges of thought begin to flee for carnal abandon, and as he loses himself in Izuna’s eyes, Itama wonders if there will even _be_ an end.


	14. MiTouka - Little Victories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinktober Day 13 Prompt - Squirting

The kanzashi in Touka’s hair is a nuisance, and Mito barely has the presence of mind to remember that the Senju’s favorite hair ornaments are filed to points as she tugs them away, spilling sable waves around bronzed shoulders. She nearly nicks the edge of her hand as the sticks are pulled free.

“How do you not shear your own hair off with these things, Touka-chan?” she grumbles, though the greedy pass of her hands over that tempting velvet skin contradicts any true annoyance. 

There is a wealth of toned muscle to re-map with hands and lips and tongue, and she plans to do so with great relish, verifying her recollection of the scars she spent Touka’s last visit committing to memory. At least today was not a day the Senju kunoichi opted for multiple layers of mail and heavily woven broadcloth topped with leather armor. 

Practicality, Touka always says. 

Slow death by suffocation, Mito always thinks.

“Oh hush, hidden weapons are always good in a pinch, and you well know it. Besides, you have always loved the unveiling. What did you say before? It’s like unwrapping a gift?” Touka smirks, running a finger down the hollow of Mito’s throat and between her breasts, toward a hidden blade. “And you’re hardly one to talk, dear.”

Mito nudges her thighs apart with a knee, running fingers down the twitching muscles of Touka’s defined belly. The Konohan delegate won’t admit to being ticklish, but Mito finds it endearing. There is nothing quite so nice as when a battle-hardened woman loses her composure and dissolves into a fit of giggles. Still, her goal isn’t to make Touka laugh this time.

It’s to make her scream - Mito’s name preferably.

Bright blue eyes meet a half-dazed gaze the color of forest leaves; it’s as if her lover sometimes embodies the very place she represents. The Uzumaki heiress wiggles two dexterous fingers just above Touka’s feminine mound. “Yes, well sometimes I might play the spoiled child - I just want to get to the gift directly.”

Those fingertips slide between dewy lips, spreading wetness up and down. “Can you really blame me, sweetling?”

“Well we all know just how spoil--” Touka’s response is cut short by her soft gasp instead, followed by her chuckle, and finally her moan as Mito begins to play; ever fiendish in the pursuit of carnal delight. 

Her fingers circle, tap, and glide as she dips her head to flick her tongue against the hardened points of her companion’s dusky pink nipples.

“Take off your clothes…” Touka gasps, arching into the heat of Mito’s lips, hips jerking hard.

“No, no, you’re not in a position to make demands. You may see me once I’m satisfied.” Mito grins, biting down gently.

“You’re a devil, Arashi…” Touka groans, calling Mito by the epithet her handmaids and confidantes have given her in private. Tempest.

It certainly fits. Mito is a force of nature - a storm in far more than name.

Two drenched fingers wedge their way deep inside Touka all too easily, and Mito drags them up against the upper wall of her channel, as her thumb presses against swollen, needy flesh. The action seems to steal her lover’s breath and every possible argument fades away in an instant, replacing them with high moans and urgent pleas.

“D-don’t you dare stop!”

“Demanding, aren’t we? I didn’t plan on it. I want to see you fall apart.” Mito bites down on her collarbone, working Touka harder, fingers finding that perfect spot, as evidenced by the curling of her toes and the rigidity of her spine. 

“I always get what I want, don’t I, Touka-chan?”

Just a little more. She’s so very wet that Mito can’t help but add a third finger and use the force of her arm to give Touka the roughness she always seems to crave. Touka grabs Mito’s shoulders, nails digging bloody half-moons in milky skin. Her lover is beyond speech and Mito’s smile grows wider, the heat flaring between her own legs.

“That’s it, sweetling. Let it happen…” she croons.

The first crisis barrels over Touka without warning, clenching her body tightly around Mito’s fingers, her lips parted in a silent yell. Mito laughs, like the bright tinkling of bells, never halting the motion of her hand.

“That was beautiful. And yet we can do better!”

Touka grits her teeth against the moan that immediately wells from her throat. There is simply no way to control the upward climb of pleasure, no way to hold back. Her lover bends to suckle a hardened nipple, and her thighs quiver and shake where they are braced by Mito’s knees. Time stands still as the tension spools tighter and tighter within her, and the sound of her unfettered cry fills the room. Teeth clamp down gently and all control is abandoned; a great rush of hot wetness splashes over the skin of Mito’s hand, her arm.

She stills her movements, watching the splendor of her lover’s pleasure before giving into the urge to kiss her gasping lips. Mito withdraws her fingers gently, pressing them between Touka’s lips once, then kissing her again so that they may both revel in her flavor, in the fruit of their loveplay. 

Until strong hands close around Mito’s wrists, and those hazel eyes have clearly regained their clarity.

“You’ve been satisfied, Arashi. I believe it’s my turn now.”

Mito’s grin is still just as wicked. “I believe that either way I win, my dear.”


	15. JiraOroTsu - Cravings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinktober Day 14 Prompt - Bloodplay

It starts somewhat innocently, as many of their encounters often do, though perhaps this one is more unexpected than most. Watching a peckish serpent consume a strawberry egg tart after finishing a long lab jaunt is not often an immediate cause for lust, but considering who the lust is coming from, no one is truly surprised.

“Damn, Oro - I wonder what it’s like to be devoured when you’ve actually got an appetite…”

Jiraiya’s comment and subsequent eyebrow wiggle seem to trigger a typical roll of golden eyes and a long-suffering sigh, but the words have not fallen on deaf ears. Not by a long shot.

_Be careful what you wish for._

Because Orochimaru hasn’t forgotten the comment when they arrive at home, and with Tsunade’s assistance, Jiraiya is easily cornered, stripped, and finally pinned, with one brawny wrist secured to the headboard at a time. Orochimaru settles his weight above the toad sage, staking a claim with the press of his body and the kiss of his mouth, spinning the first small threads of warm arousal into something vibrant and blazing hot.

When his lover burns brightly, that heat is a craving that the serpent will always indulge, but with it come other more primal hungers. 

There is little sweeter than the sensation of fang sinking into tanned skin as Jiraiya squirms beneath him, his deep voice caught up in a high and slightly anguished cry. The copper-sweet scent of blood fills Orochimaru’s senses as crimson droplets well up from the punctures left behind, and he can’t help but lave his tongue over the small wounds.

“You really are a vampire…” Jiraiya whines and Orochimaru laughs. It’s a running joke from the day their team was formed, and Jiraiya has never quite let him forget it.

“You wondered what it was like to be devoured when I’m feeling hungry, so I’m going to show you. Silly toad, you know all too well that I’ve _devoured_ you before, every solid inch in fact,” The serpent licks his lips for effect, “but this is different. You wanted my hunger, so have it. Be good for me and I’ll swallow you down, nice and hot. Be bad and I’ll take what I want - either way I get my fill.”

Orochimaru drifts a hand through unkempt white hair, pushing it away from Jiraiya’s face. “Now tell me, do you have any objections?”

Night-dark eyes fall conflicted, darting over Orochimaru’s shoulder to where Tsunade leans in against their lover’s back, her knees spread wide so that she might kneel close. She rests her chin against the curve of the serpent’s shoulder, enjoying the show as her lips brush porcelain skin. He can just barely see talented hands at their lover’s slender waist, exploring in her own way. Orochimaru may be showing Jiraiya a disaffected state, but the sage knows his partners might very well be playing a little game of their own. The muscles of his stomach clench as he realizes he just might get to have his cake and eat it too - that is, if he can even concentrate enough to watch them once Orochimaru truly gets started.

“And Hime? What’s she gonna do?”

“Exactly what you would be doing in my place, Ji-rai-ya,” Tsunade taunts, grinning.

“Our Hime-dear is going to watch and enjoy you right along with me, Raiya-kun. Don’t pretend that you don’t love the prospect,” Orochimaru runs the tip of his tongue along the points of fangs as he runs long fingers down Jiraiya’s abdomen. “A certain part of you is giving your feelings a true voice.”

The choking sound that Jiraiya utters is not the most dignified response, but it’s impossible to hold any form of composure when one exquisite snake Sannin wraps all five fingers around his cock and strokes, making his already rock-hard erection pulse even harder. 

“Oro, please…”

“I want you marked, Rai. I want the taste of you on my lips, and smeared on my skin as I lose myself in you, as you give Tsuna-chan whatever she wishes.” Orochimaru runs a fingertip through the scarlet rivulets slowly trickling from the bite marks. 

“As we take what’s ours.”

His eyes gleam, catlike and direct as he touches bloodstained fingertips to his lower lip and licks them clean. It’s as if the heat of that tongue is on Jiraiya’s bare skin, and he shivers as his usual overactive capacity for fantasy sparks to life behind his eyes. There is only one thing left to do.

Poke the bear and see what happens next.

“Well what are you waiting for, lover? I’m not fighting you.”

He’s going to be a bloody, blissed out mess when this is through - what could possibly be better?


	16. ObiKabu - Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinktober Day 15 Prompt - Impact Play

His skin is the first thing to draw the eye, genetically unique and begging for adornment. Adornment is something Kabuto can easily give. 

The true challenge is the pride in the older man's eyes, his stance, the line of his spine. It would require building up, breaking down. Exploration, study, and a trained hand. 

Working over a submissive is quite like a complex dissection at times - taking a specimen apart using the very building blocks of systemic response and release. Only these specimens, both precious and conscious, have the benefit of learning who they are, who they could be, who they would be under his control.

Kabuto is well accustomed to bestowing such gifts on deserving targets. 

From the moment he sets eyes on Obito, the decision is made, the plan formed, right down to the implements, namely a sweetly crafted leather martinet gifted to him by his first master.

Learning from the best has had its benefits. Namely exposure to Leather culture steeped in tradition and protocol, most of which he’s adopted as part of his chosen play style. The rest is all his own, and that’s what leads him here, with an especially wondrous specimen all too willing to be tied and plied with pain and the prospect of pleasure.

“I bet no one’s ever used that on you before.”

Kabuto pauses. There’s no need to allow anyone to see him ruffled by such a statement, and really, it’s a silly one.

“I was mentored by a leatherman, and thus spent a lot of time in that community. I’ve bottomed before.”

“Yeah, but did you enjoy it?” Obito’s lips quirk in a slightly cocky smile.

It’s annoying. It’s entrancing. It feels a hell of a lot like a challenge.

“I don’t see where that’s of consequence. It was educational, as it was meant to be. I take it you think you can do better?” Kabuto loops jute rope around Obito’s chest, threading the ends through the bight.

The taller man stoops slightly so that his mouth is close to Kabuto’s ear. “I know I can.”

Definitely a challenge. One that Kabuto would be apt to ignore were it not for the hairs standing on end along the back of his neck and the curiosity that runs rampant at a single thought.

“Then I suggest you put your money where your mouth is. Prove it.” He smirks, letting the rope fall. “I presume you know what you’re doing, yes?”

Somehow their positions are reversed against the wall and Kabuto’s not quite sure how it’s happened. All he knows is that Obito is very warm and very close, with fingers poised at his chin - staring him squarely in the eye.

“I know what I’m doing, cutie. Take your clothes off and I won’t ask you to call me Master.”

“I would have undressed anyway,” Kabuto grumbles, unbuttoning his shirt and laying it aside, followed by his pants. “And you’ve not earned the title so that’s a moot point.”

“Well now you get to undress _for me_. Same limits as we discussed, or do you have anything more I should avoid?” Obito’s right hand spans Kabuto’s throat, tracing the fluttering pulse there and noting its urgent beat.

“No, my list was comprehensive. I’ll safeword if I need to.” Kabuto peers up at him, rendering a dare of his own. “Shall we begin? Show me what you were so confident about.”

“Oho, aren’t you demanding? I will. One thing first,” Obito traces his jaw then deftly removes Kabuto’s glasses, setting them aside. “Now turn around and put your hands up on the cross.” He gestures to the St. Andrews cross nearby.

Effectively blinded, Kabuto reaches up to hold onto the rich mahogany with a slight sigh. The relief, however, is short lived as leather falls run the length of his spine, then pure warmth presses flush against his back. 

“If you safeword or take your hands down, I’m going to stop. Understood?”

“I understand,” Kabuto replies.

It takes active effort on his part to suppress the shiver that lingers somewhere around his spine, but when a hot exhale rushes across the nape of his neck, his ear, his reactions are rendered involuntary. He can practically hear Obito smile.

“I’m not going to expect you to count, but I am going to expect you to feel every. Last. Bit.” That teasing voice turns darker, almost purring, as if the man has become another person entirely. “And maybe, just maybe you won’t keep those sharp teeth gritted the whole time.”

At once, there is cool air at Kabuto’s back and the first strokes fall, criss crossed lashes laid one at a time across his shoulder blades, their warm points of impact radiating outward. The sensation steals his breath for all that the strokes are light. 

He’d nearly forgotten what a good flogging feels like. The martinet’s falls are shorter than is usually optimal, but they are lavish and well tooled - and they bring Obito closer in proximity. Besides that, Obito wields it well. 

Kabuto does own twin bullhide floggers that would be even more appropriate for the task, but as additional strikes are laid with almost mathematical precision several times over, he forgets all detail of the implements - too focused on the here, and the now. Obito seems to read his reactions in an instant, switching the pace, increasing it, laying incendiary stripes down the muscles of his back and his hips with near flawless technique.

Each fall leaves a mark, even if invisible, stealing away a piece of his sanity, his resolve. It’s as if the dark stranger is weaving a spell wrought in pain and slow-burning pleasure, turning Kabuto’s very nature against him. He had no intention of truly surrendering to his chosen submissive, merely enduring this little challenge, and yet he hears Obito laugh softly in response to something. 

It takes him a moment to realize it’s because he’s uttered a sound. 

“Kabuto - it’s alright if you like it. Let me hear you.” Obito’s broad hand runs the length of Kabuto’s spine and hot lips brush the skin of his neck just below his ear. “I want to.”

The unexpected softness leaves him reeling just before Obito draws away and lays another series of deft strokes across his buttocks and thighs, the martinet whipping through the air so swiftly that Kabuto can hear the tell-tale sound in anticipation. 

_Like it? Is that what’s happening?_ He could yank his hands away from the polished wood, call red and stop the scene in its tracks. Could, but doesn’t. The way that his mental capacity is drifting slowly from his grasp is alarming to say the least.

As leather makes contact with skin, another sound, a gasping sort of cry, gets bitten off in his hearing. The husky voice behind him still urging him on confirms that he is in fact the one guilty of the utterance, and the slight humiliation makes him feel as if he’s teetering on the edge of something.

He just might fall.

It’s strange. Nearly discomfiting. A soft haze lingers short of his inner sight, blurring the edges of sensation and emotion - a bit too far to reach. This is just as well when he’s not so sure he wants to relinquish a logical headspace. Yet as the scene meets its pinnacle, it seems it’s no longer his choice; everything becomes gently fuzzed over, less sharp… better than he imagined. 

_So, this must be subspace._

Obito’s hands, now free of the implement, trace the fiery heat glowing upon Kabuto’s skin, as if to soothe, never losing contact as they glide up his shoulders and slowly toward his wrists. His chest meets Kabuto’s back as he guides both hands away from the posts and secures Kabuto in a solid embrace. And just like that, the scene is over.

“Such a good boy.” Obito’s whisper is nearly tender, an unexpected anchor. “Thank you, Kabuto.”

Being called anyone’s boy should rankle and twinge, but somehow it doesn’t. Perhaps in combination with the play session, this is something to be documented in full, perhaps tested once more for the sake of confirmation. Being thanked, on the other hand, feels just right, and as he leans back against Obito, he turns to give him an imperious look. 

“You’re welcome. I admit your technique was satisfactory - you didn’t lie. But next time - I get to do as I like with you.”

A smug grin crosses Obito’s lips as he leans in closer, brushing lips against Kabuto’s cheek. He can feel his new play partner’s breath stutter in his lungs. “Something tells me we'll see about that.”


	17. MinaKushi - Needs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinktober Day 16 Prompt - Bondage

“Don’t you move a muscle, Mina-kun.” He can hear her, but he can’t see her, bound as he is face down on their bed. Not with his eyes, at any rate. His wife is hiding very little of her excitement, and Minato can see her chakra already burning nova bright in his head, in manic flashes of red and blue. **  
**

The leather wrapped around his arms feels like a second skin, an embrace that he never expected to adore; laced tight in combination with snap hooks and straps binding both legs, it gives credence to that delicious fantasy of helplessness they seek to manifest together.

A surefire way to bring him the mindless peace that seems so elusive in times like these.

Kushina is insatiable, demanding even, especially now that they are wed and seeking to conceive a child. These assignations have found them in this space more often than not, but he knows her well - when she wants something, she wants it with all of her very being. 

Sometimes that need is simply a double order of spicy miso ramen with extra char siu and a side of gyoza. Other times that need is her husband, hogtied at her mercy and wholly ready to perform to her liking, for the purposes of another joint need. Minato has no complaint; when his wife is so often the picture of vicious strength and energetic desire, how could he not want to answer in kind? It is exactly where he wants to be after a long day spent catering to responsibility.

His center of gravity shifts as the ties on his legs are released and he is flipped onto the flat of his back. Catlike, Kushina climbs over him in a liquid sprawl of pale limbs, curved and luscious and perfectly naked above him. She grins, her white teeth now glinting points that seem all the more obvious in the waning evening light. 

“You’re so pretty, sweet boy of mine,” she purrs, her sweet blue eyes marked with wild hunger - their pupils slitted, haloed by the soft haze of scarlet leaching through the irises and marking their centers with a tinge of violet. “Did you like your punishment?”

It’s a dangerous game they play when she toes the line this way, but the seals are strong, and they both know that should Minato need to, the leather encasing his arms can be shed in an instant.

“My Lady is as generous as she is beautiful,” he sighs, a thrill of excitement running the length of his spine and settling low in the cradle of his hips.

“That’s what I thought you’d say,” Kushina murmurs, bending to lick a bead of sweat from his collarbone as she palms his aching cock. “But are you ready to be as generous to me, pretty love?”

Minato knows a rhetorical question when he hears one, clenching his jaw against the rising pleasure. There is no point in attempting to quell the groan that bursts forth as she rises and sheaths herself over him in one fluid movement. She is burning hot and dripping wet, and it’s a miracle he’s able to control himself at all.

Lucky for him, breaking his control is what this is all about. As many times as she wants.


	18. JiraOroTsu - Best Served Hot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinktober Day 17 Prompt - Bukakke

A thousand small prickles brace Orochimaru against his own impulses, sparkling along his scalp as ten strong fingers tangle in glossy black locks to anchor him in place. They hold him captive, guiding him, forcing him into a metered pace destined to undo the one who presumes control.

Sometimes that very control seems to flash in reverse, and this moment is no exception to the rule. Jiraiya’s voice gives testament to that very fact, cracking garbled words uninhibited and disjointed as a clever tongue twists around his member and coaxes him toward explosive release.

Orochimaru has memorized this sensation, but he relishes it every time. Burning, abundant heat sinks and slips roughly past swollen lips to find its place down the serpent’s throat, in the way only he can manage without truly choking; in the way he’s practiced for precisely this purpose. For Jiraiya and no other, that is, unless Tsunade happens to reach for a favorite toy, but that desire has not manifested.

Today, that is. 

Besides, Tsunade is far too busy in her current position, crouched beneath him with distractions of her own. While he kneels high to take Jiraiya’s cock, she mirrors him even lower, practicing her own deep-throating talents. Pure torment by any other name, and a true test of his self control - with his fangs so near tender flesh, no less. 

Jiraiya does love a good adrenaline high, but Orochimaru really should have been more careful when he posed the wording of this challenge.

Their ever-present cycle of erotic revenge always results in a three-way victory when they collapse together into a sweaty pile of sated lovers, but bragging rights are another thing entirely. Jiraiya, despite his usual stamina, is practically vibrating with the struggle to maintain his own discipline. It seems one point will be awarded to Orochimaru very shortly.

His fingers fist carelessly in Orochimaru’s hair, his rich baritone thrown towards a rasping inhale. “Just like that…”

The pace is stolen and the serpent can scarcely do anything but ensure that Jiraiya is not injured as he continues to fuck Orochimaru’s mouth and throat with relentless force. Tsunade, on the other hand, is toying with him in turn - taking her time to ply his flesh with every trick she’s memorized in her own quest to draw out his pleasure. 

Her hands drag over his skin, tracing his hips, and making his muscles twitch. Chakra charged fingertips tease, cupping his testes and teasing the rim of his ass, until he gives her the muffled moans she seeks. Tsunade licks and sucks him like she would while consuming a piece of hard candy, and if he could see her, he is almost certain that the look she gets when savoring such a sweet treat would be written all over her face.

But Jiraiya wants nothing of his distraction, and thus the sage pulls back sharply, shoving his cock down Orochimaru’s throat until the serpent’s nose hits skin, caught off-guard to the point that he actually gives a cough, eyes watering slightly. 

Preposterous to say the least. One point to the toad for the risky move, but it seems Jiraiya is not paying attention at all.

Because the sound and sight, exquisite as they must be, make Jiraiya groan instead. The sound is deep and rumbling from where Orochimaru rests locked against his flesh, nearly suffocating on his member. Whether his lover is close to release or not is of very little consequence when white spots slowly enter Orochimaru’s vision, but coupled with the pleasure twisting through his own body, spooling hot around his spine and drawing tighter and tighter, all he can focus on is the sight of Jiraiya’s face above him, clouding over in the haze of it all.

“I want to see you…” Jiraiya pants, “I want to see me - all over you, sweetie.”

He withdraws fully to give Orochimaru a teasing joke of a breath, then pushes past his lips for two rough thrusts before pulling back completely. 

At first, Orochimaru thinks his lover is merely going to come across his chest, painting him in his come, which has happened more times than he can count. Then sticky heat spatters his lips, his cheeks, and drips down his chin, leaving golden eyes wide in surprise and deep arousal - all of which spike higher as Tsunade chooses to make her presence known, teasing faster. Orochimaru moans, aloud this time, as his tongue darts out to catch errant drops of pearly seed while Jiraiya watches.

It’s all too clear that the sight is of such erotic power that his partner’s interest is hardly diminished; another moment and he will be demanding another round.

Orochimaru can see their princess now, and the sight of her enjoying him is everything he thought it would be. Decadent. Wicked. Perfect. For one who has never been a true voyeur, there is still little he can do to prevent his own crisis from hastening toward him with the speed and power of one of her punches. 

At once, Jiraiya’s mouth is hot against his ear, a brawny hand spreading over his throat and gripping the pulse points gently. “On her tits. Do it now.”

His body obeys the command before his conscious mind can even seek to comprehend the statement, let alone argue with it. His hand finds her cheek, drawing his member out of her mouth and helping her up just before he reaches his peak. Jiraiya reaches forward, taking him in hand - one hand at his throat, and one at his cock - rendering him almost incoherent in pleasure until at last several jets of spend burst across her ample breasts. 

Far more satisfying than it ought to be. Another point to the toad.

Jiraiya’s lips and teeth find his ear as he draws in from behind, pressing his very much revived ardor up against Orochimaru’s ass.

“I think it’s Hime’s turn to paint you in her pleasure, lover - but I think I can find something else to do in the meantime.” 

Orochimaru would normally bristle, perhaps even play the brat, but his bones feel made of gelatin at the moment, and the remnants of orgasm are still sparkling through his skin. Jiraiya may be winning this time, but that’s fine. 

Revenge is sweet.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading - I hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a kudos or a comment, or even just an emoji if you can, I would love to hear from you <3
> 
> Also know that I am still accepting Kinktober prompts on Tumblr during the month of October!
> 
> Follow me there: [awintersrose.tumblr.com](http://awintersrose.tumblr.com)  
> Pillowfort: [www.pillowfort.io/awintersrose](http://www.pillowfort.io/awintersrose)  
> Twitter: [www.twitter.com/awintersrosered](https://twitter.com/awintersrosered)


End file.
